


barely above the surface

by lyss6a



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Friendship, Gen, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Doubt, hes a sad boi, his life but uhhhh before, his only friends are nott and books, this is not shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 01:32:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13823634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyss6a/pseuds/lyss6a
Summary: Caleb lives long enough to meet Nott and escape the lifestyle he never wanted to get accustomed to.





	barely above the surface

**Author's Note:**

> WOO! 
> 
> so this is my first fanfiction that i've posted and i hope you enjoy!

Caleb was drowning.

Every time he’d take a step he’d wear out even more. Talking strained his mind, his head pounding loud compared to the rest. Words were lost and blocked out, all he could hear was his own throat croaking and taking in deep breaths.

There was no warmth beside him. There was no calling for help. There was nobody willing to help a poor orphan like him. A dirty ragged child with no particular skill for anything, useless in the eyes of anyone willing to look _(even his parents, somewhere out there)_.

He was 16 when he first experienced the feeling of death ( _he could feel something again, thank the gods)_ . The lightheadedness, the feeling of floating before the darkness of it all. He was _also_ 16 when he learned to close his mouth _(those people didn’t want to hear the cries of a poor child bothering their day, nor hear the Zemnian, a language they didn’t bother to appreciate)_.  

When he finally woke up, it wasn’t on the cold streets. It was in a blank, empty cell, with chains around his wrists and ankles. Screams echoing from afar, whimpering, cackling, and the horrifying silence after. Curling up into a ball, Caleb rocks himself back and forth in the corner until the sounds disappear and he’s released into the black _(in the back of his mind, he wished for death, because anything would be better than this)_.

That night, the guards took him by the forearm and dragged him towards the screams. _“Watch,”_ they took his head and forced him to watch the man on the stake, _“he is an example if you don’t follow.”_

Smoke flew into his eyes and tears started to pour. The man on the stake screams as the fires climb higher and higher. Somewhere in the background, he can hear other people whimpering and crying for help _(they go silent)_. Caleb watches the mans eyes roll back into his head, slumping forward and unconscious. That night, he hears the screams of the charred man screaming out his name on repeat.

His captors kept him close yet far. Far enough so they wouldn’t have to look at him unless necessary, though close enough so they could make him work until his hands bleed. Keeping him on the brink of life was their idea of making sure he doesn’t escape. A precaution if you would, something keeping him weak enough that he **can’t** escape.

That’s where the books came in. He needed something to stop himself from going completely insane. Inbetween the gruelling tasks and work, he would snatch anything he could find. Any language, any genre, it hadn’t mattered to Caleb. He read, and read, and read until it was time to go and do his work. _(The supposed witches of the clan had been due for a room cleaning. Caleb slowly took every small book he could find, and read them all that night. It was worth it in the end, despite the horrid beating he got after trying to cast something on the guards.)_

Caleb, for the first time in a long time, was floating.

The beatings didn’t stop, his hands were still scarred and bleeding, those scars on his back still burned. Continuously, he would work to his breaking point and promptly pass out on the cold floor of the cell.

Acceptance was in place. He knew that at this point, they were going to kill him or he’d have to escape. More and more of the people working alongside him were disappearing, and it was only fitting he’d be next. _(In a crack that the guard couldn’t see, he hid his collection of books and spells and planned out his escape.)_

One day, Caleb woke up with a stir when the men threw a little girl into the cell with him. Curiously, he looks over and peeks out at her. Standing up, she wipes the dust off herself and throws him a sharp-toothed smile. Her face is green, and her ears are large and hanging. He has to stop himself from saying anything about it.

 _“Nott’s the name!”_ She seems quite proud about it. Her hand sticks out in the air, and Caleb reluctantly shakes it. 

 _“Not what?”_ Nott giggles and pulls on her braids. She waves off Caleb’s question in a dismissive manner, and reveals numerous coins hidden from sight. They become best friends in a matter of minutes. 

Suddenly, that’s part of his routine. He comes back from work, maybe with a new book or two, and falls asleep with Nott by his side. Then, when Nott comes back from her work time, she whispers to Caleb about all the people she saw and spills all the coin from her dress. Some nights he’d read quietly to her, effectively soothing her and putting her to sleep. _(Somewhere in his mind, the escape plan for one becomes an escape plan for two.)_

It’s the night that she wakes up crying in his arms about the ‘burning man’ when he tells her how they’re going to get out _(he sings Zemnian to her and holds back his tears, how lucky she is to have someone comforting her)._ After confiding in her, they talk the specifics of the plan.

That’s how Nott ends up on Calebs back, hidden with a bit of magic and a lot of experience. Muffled, Caleb hears Nott whisper, “ _you’re so smelly, lucky I’ve gotten used to it.”_ He bites the inside of his lip to stop himself from laughing in front of the guard.

They walk, and the moment they’re alone- Nott jumps out from his back and growls at the guard. Before they have any time to react, Caleb mutters a few words and the captor slams into the wall behind him. Their veins pulsate before their chest falls and movement stops. Walking up to the body, Caleb gets on one knee and turns his head to hear if they are truly dead _(he was such a_ **_fool_ ** _)._

His throat closes as a hand tightly constricts any air from coming in or out. In a flash, spots float throughout his vision, and he can barely make out an orc snarling and growling under their breath. Back against the wall, cornered, he can only hope Nott was smarter than him and ran.

The hand around his throat weakens, and the orc falls flat on it’s side in front of Caleb. There stands Nott with a bloody knife and wide eyes.

Caleb takes her hand and they run.


End file.
